


Please Don’t Cover my Barbed Wires, Untangle Them.

by Abby_nikki1124



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Anne is married to roy, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gilbert Blythe Needs a Hug, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley Angst, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley in Love, Gilbert is married, Happy Ending?, I Tried, It's the yearn for me, POV Gilbert Blythe, Please Don't Hate Me, Secret Relationship, Tolerate It Taylor swift inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_nikki1124/pseuds/Abby_nikki1124
Summary: Anne and Gilbert did not end up together despite their mutual attraction to one another. Anne married Roy, and Gilbert eventually married Winifred. Both in marriages where they have perfect partners and in perfect picture marriages. The question is, how long can they tolerate being in a loveless unhappy marriage? Do they take the chance for a secret romance, or do they tolerate the question that keeps repeating in their head of what if?Loosely based off of Taylor Swift’s song Tolerate it.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Winifred Rose, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Royal "Roy" Gardner/Anne Shirley
Comments: 73
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

The party bustles with lively music and the conversations of guests overlaying among one another. It becomes almost as if static is stirring through the radio. Her hair up in a low bun, tendrils of curls framing her face, she can feel the warmth of a hand press against her lower back. She wants this. She thinks to herself she wants to be this person. It’s what everyone expects from her. It’s Anne’s ten-year-old dream to find herself a knight and shining armor to be galloping towards her and whisk off her feet and take her to the castle of her dreams. To be covered in loving affirmations and delicate kisses like petals touching the ground at the end of the spring; This is what she wants, and she smiles, laying a hand over the man next to her like paper. She feels her facial expressions drawn to become the curves and etched of Anne Shirley Cuthbert’s perfect picture. Her diamond princess cut ring and wedding band heavy on her ring finger; she preferred emeralds or pearls. But she won’t complain when she has someone that can make her happy. 

The guests’ laughter she didn’t know half the names of echo the halls as the next groomsman Adam or was it Geroge she tries to remember is giving his speech to them. More laughing, she laughs and feels her cheeks flush, taking another sip of her wine. The wedding reception is covered with elegant colors of ivory, greens, and greys. Anne wanted an intimate wedding, outside in the spring, but it’s about compromise, or that’s what her mother-in-law had mentioned. Marilla was scoffing at the notion of Anne not having a slight decision for her wedding except for the cake and her dress. She’s happy she repeats to herself she will make the best out of this marriage. Roy loves her dearly and encouraged her on her adventures. The feeling of a kiss on her cheeks brings her back to life as she turns to see brown eyes crinkled as if he had just been exposed by the brightest star and found a way to bring it back home. 

“To Mr. and Mrs. Gardener,” George she now remembers, raises his glass to the couple, and all cheer.

Diana comes towards the couple with a microphone in one hand and the other occupied with her phone. 

“Anne, my darling best friend, my sister. I love you, dearly, and I can’t believe you are now married. It felt like yesterday when we would make up stories about our futures and those we would get to share those adventures with. You wanted your knight in shining armor, and you got him. Though I admit that after the many years of your obsession with Jane Austen, I believed you would switch from the knight to a Mr.Darcy. But you said, and I quote, “no one can be Mr.Darcy; Mr. Darcy is entirely unreachable and highly too fictional.” She looks at Anne to see if she recalls those moments and if Anne is thinking the same thing she was. Anne feels a certain pair of eyes on her, and she can recognize the warmth of the green and brown liquid honey iris’ anywhere. She looks away, her attention now on Diana once more.

“Yet, you proved yourself wrong when you came running home one day to say you think you found your soulmate. It was Roy she described, and look where you’re at now. I love you, Anne. And Roy, take care of my sister, or you will be hearing from me.” Diana teasingly threatens Roy, who laughs and nods at Diana. Anne gets up and goes to greet her best friend in a hug, eyes glassy, and as she looks up, she notices Gilbert giving a small smile, but it wasn’t a real one. It didn’t reach his eyes, it wasn’t bright, and he was taking short breaths taking sips of his champagne. He’s trying, and she is too. Their eyes remain locked, and like a spell, they contain and keep that trance of possibilities and locked secrets of the magic hidden as if not to let the audience know their story. A polished hand lightly grabs his face and kisses his cheek. Bringing them out of the trance, she smiles at Winnie and releases herself from Diana. 

Diana looks at her with her eyes in tears and whispers in her right ear, “If you need me to distract Roy for a bit so you can get some fresh air, just give me the signal.” 

Anne shocked, giving Diana a questioning stare mouthing the word, “how?-”

“I just know Anne.” Anne nods and kisses her best friend on the cheek, heading back towards her seat.

Just for a couple more hours, and then they head off to New York and start their lives as husband and wife. Her dress feels tight, and the five-course meal of caviar and venison does not please her appetite; it feels as though her throat has been constricting from screaming anything out while eating with her husband and friends. But she sees her adoptive parents smiling and laughing with her Avonlea friends, and it feels like a blanket of warmth and hope. Anne takes a moment to relish their faces trying to imprint this memory of them to last in her brain as a keep safe. 

“Hey, are you okay?” A hand entangles with hers underneath the table and squeezes tighter trying to anchor herself down at the moment. 

“I am better than okay. I’m thrilled.” She smiles up at him and cups her cheek, and kisses her gently and sweetly. 

“Just making sure you have been quiet.”

“I was just taking things in; little Anne would not have thought this would happen.”

“Like finding your prince charming.” Roy charmingly smiles at her and kisses the inside of her wrist. 

“Well, aren’t I just lucky?” She answers and gives him another kiss. 

“I’m lucky that a real Mr.Darcy doesn’t exist and swept you off first.”

“Right, exactly very lucky” Anne looks at Gilbert. Her eyes soften, and she bites her bottom lip from saying anything else. He’s sitting laughing at something Moody said; his suit reminds her of a mature version of the one he wore to their prom. His hair unruly; Gilbert could never tame those curls of his there was also one that stuck up in the air. He would always complain about them, but she loved it. Anne becomes aware of the woman next to him. She was everything she was not—beautiful blonde hair, manicured nails, an accent, tall and incredibly proper and kind. Winifred was the epitome of a perfect woman, sitting next to him; they looked like a catalog couple. She kisses him, and they both grin at one another. She laughs at something he said, and Anne takes her eyes off, clenching her fists as hard as she can that the marks from her nails create crescent moons prominent on her palms. As if he could tell that she was battling her inner wounds from the past. They catch each other’s stare, and both breathe in, trying to compensate for the air that had left their lungs as if both knew the deep feeling hidden between them. Three breathes, she tells herself and turns to the man sitting next to her and thinks of the life she has yet to begin. Anne loves Roy. He was always the man on paper, and he fit that list that she had written in her mind. He was kind and gentle to her, he was successful, and he always asked for her input before working on a legal case. Roy was perfect in all essence of a book character. It was the matter that Anne still found herself to remind herself just how lucky she was. She wants this, and she will live the life she wanted. 

“How about a dance, love?” Roy sticks his hand for her to take in, which she accepts.

“I can’t believe we’re married.” Anne looks up, her hands wrapped around his neck.

“Seems like yesterday when I met you.”

“You mean when you accidentally spilled coffee on my shoes.” They laugh, remembering the day when she got so angry when her new pair of boots were covered in coffee, she was already having a rough day, and then like the universe had just gone, “we’re not finished.” That incident happened, but it turned out to be better in the end.

“I did buy you a coffee and a pastry as an apology. Oh, and took you out the next weekend to that art museum.” 

“It was a perfect day” Anne rests her chin on Roy’s shoulder, and she catches Gilbert sneaking towards the small balcony. She catches Diana’s eye as she is dancing with Jerry. She gives a head nod, whispering to Jerry. They immediately go into a conversation about New York, and Jerry pipes in about which team is better, Nyx or Yankees. 

Anne takes the diversion heading towards the balcony. She sees Gilbert, his back facing toward her, his elbows leaning against the rail, and his head tilted up towards the night sky. He looks peaceful, and Anne almost doesn’t want to intrude, but she feels a tug like raising the anchor back from the ground. It pulls her and keeps tugging, and no matter how much she tries to fight it, she becomes a magnet so compelled towards the magnetic field that there is no fighting the inevitable. 

“It’s so peaceful. The moon, the stars, the quiet it makes it feel less suffocating.” Gilbert’s eyes are closed, his breath coming out in puffs of clouds from the cold air. His eyelashes wispy, long, and the moonlight was creating small reflections across his face. He was art at the very existence among nature itself, a painting with so many layers and paint strokes, each with a hidden meaning. Some she had the pleasure to strip and understand.

“It’s freedom from the unknown from everything.” Anne takes her time to take in the moonlight leaning against the rail, their arms so near that she can feel the heat radiating from him. 

“Will you miss it? Avonlea?” His gaze lingers on her, the long pearl earrings dangling from her ears, the whisps of hair, the small goosebumps on her arms, her button nose tinted pink, and her freckles scattered like little kisses from the sky. 

“I’ll miss a lot of things, green gables, Matthew, Marilla, Diana, the lake of shining waters, the haunted woods, even Jerry but don’t tell him that. Delly, our family dinners, apple picking, but I will miss you terribly, Gil.” 

“I’ll miss you too, very much.” Their hands found their way closer to each other, their pinkies now pressed against each other. Both feeling the rush of fire flow through their veins with just the small touch. 

“You’ll do amazing things, Gil, promise me you will give Delly an extra kiss from me, and don’t forget me when you discover a new medical research or application that will change the world.” 

“I could never forget you, Anne. I’m happy for you. You accomplished so much, and look. You just got married.” Gilbert tells her earnestly, giving her a small smile, but it’s still not the smile she wants. His eyes are not how they usually are. They are not bright pools of liquid honey and green shiny whenever he talks or looks at her. It seems hollow and dim as if a light was distinguished. 

“Yea, married. The homely freckled Anne, terrified she wasn’t ever going to settle was wrong after all.” Anne laughs to herself.

“You were never homely, Anne. You always and are beautiful.” She sucks in a breath and keeps her eyes trained at his eyes.

“God, Gil, why is it when you say that it makes me feel like I can never do bad in your eyes?” 

“Because even though you are hot-tempered, I know when it’s just you being scared or guarded, and you’re right, in my eyes, you can never do bad. You’ll always be the Anne that was kind to others who didn’t even deserve it. The one I had a crush on since we were twelve years old.” Gilbert feels the urge to tuck a tendril of her curl behind her ear but refrains and keeps himself as far as he could from doing anything stupid. 

“I was so blind and stubborn, I’m sorry.” Anne starts to prick at a hangnail in between on her index finger. She wants to feel something other than the thousand needles constricting her throat to let out a sob.

“Don’t be. It’s water under the bridge besides your happy now, right?” Gilbert gently pries her hands away from her, pricking her finger. His hands were caressing her fingers, trying to see if she had hurt herself in any way. He takes his time gliding his thumb across hers. She can feel small callouses, and just like a figment of a dream, her hands become cold once more. 

“I think Roy can make me happy, yes.” 

“There you have it; You will do a great of many things, Anne. New York is not ready for what has to come.”

“Gil, I just need to know, did you-” Anne whispers and can feel her body and the words trying to come out constrict as if barbed wires welded into her skin and pricked, keeping herself rooted.

“Love you; I’ve always loved you. Always will,” Gilbert admitted running his thumb across her cheek and giving her a light kiss on her forehead.

“Gil I-” 

“It’s okay; I have to go Winnie will be wondering where I am.” He wipes her tears, looking at her how he would always look at her like she wrote all the love poems and held the universe together. She nods and presses his forehead against hers. She swears she can feel small droplets fall on her arms, and she tries not to cry even harder. He backs away and gives one last smile heading out the door. Anne could do only one thing if not for him but herself before she lives the life of Mrs. Gardner.

“I love you too.” She whispers so quietly like it’s a sin, and she thinks she saw him stop for a second, his hands clenched in fists, his head shaking, and all at once, the flashes of colors and what if possibilities disappear. Her body becomes shackles and cracks, but as if she was porcelain, she glues herself together, plants a smile on her face, and ignores the missing gap she forgot to piece back together. It’s time for a new chapter, she tells herself and walks back inside, heading towards her laughing husband and pushes all that has happened in the past twenty minutes between her and Gilbert at the furthest deepest part of her mind. 


	2. Tethered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert reflects and we get background on what Anne and Gilbert really are. Yes, you are getting Gilbert's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Disclaimer there is mild descriptions of a panic attack.

There is a feeling before the moment where anxiety and the better part of the brain cannot comprehend the gashes and pain when one’s heartbreaks. It becomes the obsession of the body desperately craving and trying to grasp the life escaping in puffs of air. The carbon dioxide at each exhale provides energy for nature’s lives at each waking moment; the plants take this and give beauty in its return. But what he is feeling is something unlike any medical textbooks he has read or cases he was taught or witnessed at the hospital. He understands that the pounding of his heart and the rush of the blood pumping through his brain is just a response and the way a brain wires itself to understand that each burst of dopamine spikes at the sound of laughter or a glimpse of love is precisely that, chemicals. Yet, it is something much different to have witnessed rather than feel. 

Here, Gilbert is hiding in the bathroom, his body slack against the wall with his shaking palm sturdy against his heart, trying to claw away at the chemicals that make him feel the absolute pain and unsteady rhythm of his heartbeats. He didn’t intend to hear her say those words and make his world go round at the sight of the possibilities. If he were to open his mouth sooner and say those three words, then he would be the one standing at the altar. An emerald ring on her finger, one that he knows she loves and not the diamond that sits on her finger now. Their wedding wouldn’t have been inside; they would have gotten married outside, small and intimate with flowers in her hair. To start a new world with Anne and he would have been there through every milestone, supported her through her career as Gilbert knew she would. They would eventually start their own family outside of the city and close to Avonlea, where he would be able to come home to his wife and children with the same ringlet red hair and bright blue eyes full of imagination. But this wasn’t a movie, and Gilbert knew that. He waited too long, or perhaps fate had been against them the whole time. No matter how close they were to each other like salt to the water, it dissipated at any chance for them to be together. Imagining a future of them together won’t change the fact that she’s married now and that he is now with Winnie. But their conversation out on the balcony had made him into the twelve-year-old boy that was enamored and hopelessly and entirely devoted to Anne. It was utter shit Gilbert had felt, and there was no cure to this ailment but going through the aches and the denial of the brain of more dopamine-induced chemicals. Like breaking a habit, he had to keep going and never give in to the temptations of the feeling of pure euphoric currents that can implode through his body. 

So Gilbert holds himself breathing in slow breaths, counting to three, splashes his face with water to wake him up. To then leave and greet a grinning Winnifred who is drinking champagne holding conversations with other guests. 

“Hey, honey! There you are. We were just talking about the trip we took last month.”

“That’s great Winnie, are you ready to go?” He smiles, sitting down facing her.

“Now? They haven’t even cut the cake. Are you feeling okay?” She cups his cheek and combs through his hair. It’s so gentle that he feels for a moment he could cry. 

“I think I caught something; I’m just feeling a bit tired.” 

“Okay, then let’s go; we can’t have a doctor getting sick, can we? I’m going to grab my coat, and we’ll be right out.” He sees Winnie go across the room to grab her coat and watches her say goodbyes to their friends and the bride and groom. Roy hugs her, and Anne holds her hands, laughing at something she said. Winnie motions for him to come over to say bye. He prays to God; he doesn’t fuck up and say something wrong and give him the courage to look at Anne in the eyes. 

“Leaving so soon,” Roy tells him, giving a handshake.

“Yea, I’m not feeling so well. But the wedding was amazing congratulations.” Gilbert replies as earnestly as he can, hoping no one can hear his heart beating in his ears or his voice become hoarse from the build-up of tears begging to be freed. He looks at Anne and catches her eyes. They look glassy and tainted with some emotion he cannot comprehend.

“Congrats Anne, seriously, it was amazing. You deserve amazing.” Gilbert clears his throat and feels a slender pair of arms jump into him and wrap around him. He takes this moment to envelop himself with the imprint of her, the smell of vanilla and honey, the slowed breathing, and her voice. He can feel her close to his ear, and she whispers,

“Be happy, Gil; I’ll miss you. Promise me you will try to be happy. There are not enough people like you in this world, so share your talents and be happy.” 

“I promise,” Gilbert whispers. They let go, and the comfort and the puzzle pieces they once were together no longer feel whole.

This wasn’t what he wanted, and yet here he is in bed at 3 am can’t sleep, just staring at the ceiling, wondering whether Anne had ever seen the notes she scattered across his life to become his writing in a story they shared eventually. It was so much more straightforward when they were younger. 

* * *

“Anne, please just talk to me. I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.” He is running to catch up to a small redhead girl parading through the hallways of the school. 

“Leave me alone!” He hears her small voice shout as she apologizes to those she bumps into on her way to her algebra class.

Gilbert didn’t expect to be met with a rush of indescribable feelings when he had first bumped into the red-headed girl with small braided pigtails, overalls, and floral boots. He was 12, and to him, she was enigmatic in a way that a moth was so helplessly drawn to a flame though above all conscious it was a one-way ticket to their death. On his way to history class, Gilbert was running late again from staying up late with his dad. But if it was one thing Gilbert hated was being behind in his education, so one minute he was running after the final warning bell rang, and the next thing he knew, he felt a small body bump into his and scattered papers all around the floor. 

“Watch where you’re going?” the small voice irritatedly piped up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking.” Gilbert apologies and starts to grab the scattered papers.

“Clearly.” 

“Look, let me just help you, and we can both be on our way.” 

“Be careful with those notes! It took me all day to organize them; the algebra teacher can barely teach.”She grabs the papers from him, and Gilbert takes the advantage to look at the girl in front of him. She was pretty and smelled nice, and she stared at him like he had something on his face.

“Mr.Phillips? I had him last year. He’s horrible. If you ever need any notes or help, I’m happy to offer.” 

“I might take that offer.”

“I’m Gilbert, by the way.” He extends his hand for her to shake, but she doesn’t, and his nerves become transmuted into rubbing the back of his head. 

“Pleasure.” She starts off the opposite of the hallway with a stack of notes in her hands. 

“Hey, what’s your name? Come on, carrots.” Gilbert runs to catch up to her and gets startled at the sudden stiffness of her body. Without warning, she turns around, red cheeks and slaps him right in the face with the stack of notes in her hand and raises her voice,

“Anne. It’s not carrots. It’s Anne.” With that, she leaves a gaping Gilbert behind her pigtails flowing as she runs and a stunned Gilbert who has fallen for the spirited red-headed Anne Shirley- Cuthbert.

Since then, Gilbert has done everything in his power to make sure she knew that he wanted her in his life. He chased her down and apologized profusely every day; she was stubborn and never gave him the light of the day. Until the day came, Gilbert stopped bothering Anne and wasn’t as competitive as he usually was. The spark in his eyes dimmed, and he was quieter than usual. His dad was getting sicker. No one knew how severe it was. Until he stopped coming all together for a week or so, no one saw Gilbert, and to Anne, she would never say it out loud, but she was worried. Anne found out from Marilla that his dad passed, and she felt a sting in her heart that had her run towards his house to do anything to soothe the sting and ache she felt. She hugged him and held him as he unraveled in sobs clutching her tighter, hiccuping and gasping for air. All she could do was cry and try to soothe Gilbert with “I know” and “I’m sorry.” She never told him that was the day things started to change in her heart towards Gilbert.

As time had soothed and he had taken some time to travel to find himself a family to fill the hole in his heart, it finally became a dull ache of bearable pain for Gilbert since his dad’s passing. The two had called a truce and had been best friends ever since going through the lows and highs of high school. Each competitive and wanting to win valedictorian, yet in the end, they tied with the same GPAs. They both got into the University of Toronto, Gilbert applying as pre-med and Anne as a journalism major. When it was time to decide on whether to dorm, the two decided to share an apartment as if it was the most logical conclusion to their situation. The more they got older, the more Gilbert understood that Anne was no longer some enamored schoolboy crush. He was in love with her and not the love where you want just to kiss and hold someone and cherish in compliments. This love ran so deep in his soul, tethered him to the ground, swaddled his heart that his entire being strung to every footstep Anne has ever taken. He was a stained glass window with each picture of memories he had of her, and as the sun shines through, it was majestic and too delicate to break. Gilbert didn’t want to break that glass, but he craved every part of her soul to intertwine with his. He knew this to be true the moment he had felt her lips on his. 

* * *

It was the last day of their junior year, and they had just finished their final exams and wanted to celebrate. They didn’t want to go out to some frat party or go to a bar. They wanted to stay inside and just not do anything but eat and drink their stress in beers and wine coolers. The two spread out on the floor against the couch with the stereo playing pop cheesy songs, both facing one another in a heated game of Uno, their fifth bottle of alcohol creating droplets of water on the glass coffee table. Both faces flushed with red and big grins as if the haze of the alcohol had dissipated every ounce of stress balled up in the academic year. 

“Uno!” 

“Uno! Go on eat two cards, Anne.” Gilbert challenged her. 

“I said it before you! That’s not fair.” Anne pouts and crosses her arms, her hair loose out of her braid. 

“All’s fair in love and war. Now grab the cards, Anne.” He pushes the cards towards her as if he is trying to tease her.

“I may be drunk, Gilbert Blythe, but I will not admit defeat.”

“Fine, then forfeit, and I win.” He shrugs, taking another sip of his beer, and it becomes apparent he does not even know how many bottles he drank. His whole body is warm and light, and the fairy lights hung in their apartment makes Anne look like a dryad.

“How about you forfeit, and I don’t get mad at you. You get happy hugs. It’s a win-win situation.” She takes another sip and gives him a doe-eyed look. The look she perfected throughout their friendship, it’s the one where he couldn’t say no to no matter what. 

“Nope.” 

“Please, Gil.” Anne looks like a lost puppy with her hands clasped together, and her eyes wide and lips pouted. 

“I really can’t say no to you.” Gilbert laughs and shakes his head as if he is trying to get out of the gaze of what is Anne Shirley- Cuthbert.

“Yes! I win! See you get happy hugs. I think that it’s much better than winning even if you are a sore loser.” She throws the cards up in the air and throws her arms around Gilbert, resting her head on his chest, and she can feel him laughing, and the smell of mahogany and cinnamon wrap around her. She can feel him wrap his arms around his waist tighter, and she takes a moment just to stay still and relish in the comfort of him. 

“Anything for you, Anne.” He whispers, and she looks up to him, her eyes blue and opaque as the summer’s seas and sky after a storm. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her cheek so lightly as a feather floats in the air before it touches the ground. Anne’s breathing became hitched, and his adam’s apple bobs up and down. The small touch from Anne’s hand loosely playing with the curls at the nape of his neck to sliding down to the front of his chest. Her fingers inching forward towards his neck to his chin, creating small pools of fire at each part she touches. Her fingertips reached his lips. Gilbert grabs her hands and places a soft kiss like a rose petal as it is being plucked one by one. It’s so soft that she swears she can unravel herself into a million pieces and be brought back to life by how delicate he is with her. Gilbert’s heart is beating so loud, and he swears he can hear hers both in rhythmic unison. Once again, he takes his chance and kisses her cheek, then the other, one at the corner of her mouth, and a small gasp escapes from Anne. Gilbert kisses her at the other corner of her mouth, hovering an inch above hers. 

Then slowly and all at once, as if he would be chained from the sins and demons of limitations, he snaps, reciting a prayer, sinking into the depths of unexplored possibilities and consequences. Their lips meet, and it breaks the invisible barrier held between the two, the tension of years of pulling the string wrapped around another back and forth. Anne grasps his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, and her fingers eventually sinking into his hair, a groan escaping from Gilbert. Gilbert brings Anne closer, laying her on the carpeted floor, deepening the kiss, both fighting for dominance. He breaks away for a second and captures the picture that would forever be instilled in his memory. There she was, the stained glass window of colors, her auburn hair spread out in whisps as magma flows across the sea, Uno cards sprawled out across the floor underneath and around them, the radio playing the top 20 pop songs, and the glow of the fairy lights illuminating her red lips. He doesn’t know if it’s a drunken makeout or something much more, but he hopes it’s much more. She smiles and laughs, cupping his cheek, stops all his thinking for a second, and kisses him. Both take their time exploring one another, his tongue teasing hers, and just like that, they become wired and tethered to one another. They are taking their time to keep themselves grounded. Their kisses were becoming slower each minute, and just like that, they stopped resting their foreheads against one another. The barrier to go further becomes more and more palatable, but they stop. Their heads rushing with alcohol, bodies entangled, and hair a mess. They stay like that together on the carpeted floor, falling asleep into the night.

Gilbert wakes up the next morning with her snuggled into his side. She looks beautiful, and he doesn’t know what this means for them and if Anne will remember their drunken makeout or if she will feel the same. But he takes his time to look at her like all the times he has imagined, with her hair in her face, her nose scrunched up, and lips slightly parted. Gilbert loved her with every being, and he wanted her to know it. She shuffles a bit, and he sees her open her eyes; and she looks up at him with a small smile on her face but quickly falls as if she thought about something.

“Morning,” Gilbert says, playing with her hair, twirling his finger in her curls.

“About last night Gil, it doesn’t change anything between us, right?” Anne sits up, pulling her knees in towards her body, and Gilbert misses her warmth. 

“What if I want it to mean something?” Gilbert sits up facing toward her trying to get her to understand what he is trying to say, 

“Gil- please, I can’t. If we were to be together, it would be a mess; we wouldn’t work. And being in a relationship right when you are going to start med school and me about to graduate. We wouldn’t last.” Anne explains, resting her chin on her knees, arms still wrapped around herself.

“What about how I feel about this? Don’t you think we should give it a try? Anne, tell me you don’t have feelings for me?” Gilbert reasons with her running his hands through his hair.

“I-Gilbert, I need you to respect my decision. I’m saving us from heartbreaks here. We already work so well together like this. As best friends as Anne and Gilbert.” 

“Anne, why are you so against us? Would it be that bad? You have to have some feelings towards me because yesterday was sure as hell something. You cannot deny that.” Gilbert exclaims, his voice agitated. He stands and paces back and forth, his hands bunched in his hair.

“I just can’t! I can’t, Gilbert! You and I will not happen. I will not risk us; I care about you too much to not have you in my life if something was to go wrong.” She is standing across him, raising her voice each time, her eyes brimmed with tears. 

“Anne, you don’t get it! You can’t just tell me to forget what I feel for you. I’m trying to respect your boundaries, but this hurts like hell. But you won’t let me in, will you? No matter how long I wait for you and trust me, Anne, I can wait a fucking lifetime for you if it meant you could be mine.” Gilbert’s throat constricts, and his voice is hoarse and tired, tears are falling, and he has a pounding headache, but it isn’t from the alcohol. It’s the hurt and raw grounding pain hitting him full force repeatedly. 

“I- don’t wait for me, Gil. Don’t please. You can be mad at me all you want. Just, please don’t leave, at least not yet.” Anne feels her tears pouring and her throat filled with needles; she wants to scream, and the truth is she is terrified, and she doesn’t know what to feel or why it hurts to push him away, why it physically pains her to see him in a wreck. She likes safety, and not changing something she knows can tip her whole world. She wants practicality and logicality. It’s what works best for her, and Anne could live with that. 

“I can never leave you. But I need you to know that this will not be the same. I need to distance myself from you. I can’t be around you or witness you fall in love with someone other than me. I need you to respect that. I can respect your decision on this, but I need you to know that this will be different. Are you able to deal with that?” Gilbert’s in shambles. He’s trying to grip the air around him from the hiccuping creeping up on him from crying so much. His chest is burning, and his heart is cracking into pieces; little by little, a part of him is deteriorating. 

Anne takes a moment, her lip quivering, her hair all over the places and her hands in fists. She closes her eyes and whispers, “yes, I am.”

“Then, there you go. You don’t have anything to worry about. Now excuse me, I have to go.” Gilbert heads out the door, and Anne stands in silence that becomes too loud for her to process and clutches herself falling onto the ground sobbing. Her heart sinking and feeling like a piece of her soul was ripped out. The feeling of a dagger stuck in her heart and unable to remove it and having to tolerate the sense of insurmountable heartache. She fell asleep clutching to herself on the floor and woke up to her back in her bedroom, knowing that he carried her back to her bed. It made her cry even more, and she couldn’t back out on her decision; she couldn’t because she was scared of how much he loved him.

* * *

Gilbert went through the years trying to move on and keep at a distance. He was there for her when she didn’t see him, and he was always there to help when she needed it. But he was hurt, and once she started dating Roy, he knew it was the end of Anne and him. So he began to date other people and met Winnie. She was smart, funny, and kind. It was what everybody could want for a partner. He tried, and he believed that perhaps Winnie could make him happy and get past Anne. He watched her get married to Roy, and it hurt like hell, but Gilbert was delighted for her. That’s all he wanted for her is to be happy even if it wasn’t with him. So here he is now, 4 am, looking at an engagement ring. A diamond, not an emerald, and he thinks it’s time for him to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? Is this where you thought it was going? I wanted to give some depth to their relationship and also to feel Gilbert's pain. This is probably one of my favorite chapters so far to write; I have more to come, but it is something I really enjoyed and proud of. This is Taylor swift inspired after all, so I do not promise happiness and fluff ..yet. Maybe? I would really appreciate it if you can tell me your thoughts on this? Thank you for reading. See you soon! Happy New Year!! I would also love to thanks Alessandra or @tragicalanne on Twitter and Bekah @Awae_kindred for the incredible support and feedback.  
> If you want to talk come join me on twitter: @meadowspirits


	3. Time is a Fickle Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne's insight on her marriage and an upcoming event is approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise Time Jump! Alright, carry on and read on.

**Two years later**

Time is a fickle thing; every moment and decision that one decides to make can cause a new path to open. But with time, there are leftover footprints of the past of those who were a part of one’s life and the regrets made. Then those stranded notes left behind are replayed in a constant loop of the questions of if this was the right thing to do? If the person that one has decided to be with was the right person? Time is constant, and it never stops; it chooses no favorites, it leaves whether one likes it or not. It is a matter if one can live with secrets that time has kept hidden from their reality. Anne had learned from an early age that she had to lock those secrets in a vault of the times where she felt the time had once stopped for her and gave peace. 

The city is never quiet, and it festers on time and rapid-paced ideas and sounds of cars, sirens, traffic, and the yells and cries from the people in bars. There are no stars, light pollution diluting any sense of home that she longs for. Every bit and piece she takes apart and observes about her life makes it seem more of a hollow cut out of herself. This story is not told from her perspective; this is from the author, making the women rely on the man’s savior complex to try to piece together to be something she isn’t. As if a prince charming, a man can save a woman drowning from her mind, craving something other than the life she is in. The part of the story she belongs in is the woman battling her scars and demons from the past, taking her body apart to pray and apologize to pieces of her for all the pain she put herself through. Here is where the woman learns the ability to be content and understand the choices she makes are hers and hers alone. 

So who is Anne? She thinks. Anne stares at the wide paned glass window with views of skyscrapers. Chopped vegetables on a cutting board, recreating a recipe that she knows so dearly like the back of her hand. She rewrote this recipe about ten times until it was perfect calligraphy pressed with flowers and the scent of Mary’s perfume. The cookbook she made for the Lacroix family and the cookbook where Gilbert would use religiously to prepare dinner for his family. A cookbook where she is sure he is now using to his advantage back in Toronto with his wife. Anne wasn’t surprised to hear they were getting married, and she was elated for him. He was moving on and would soon be the doctor he always wanted. The day she found out, she laughed and drew out a long breath. Winifred posted a picture of her and Gilbert kissing, and her left hand placed on his cheek showing off a diamond ring. She called the happy couple to congratulate them, Gilbert’s voice bringing her back home. It was like she could finally breathe once again as if fingers dragging through each piano key so melodic and delicate. Then at once, the tempo picks up, and it breaks into a classical piece that makes stars and her whole universe collapse into senseless colors. The colors that she would use to help paint the love she feels towards him. Anne closed her eyes to envelop in the kaleidoscope of colors and all things that was Gilbert and let herself dream even if it was for a second. Then as her world was a painting and crescendo, her eyelids flutter open, and it goes back to black and white. 

She cried that night in the bathroom, pressed against the sink facing forward towards the mirror, muffling her sobs, hoping not to make any sound as Roy was asleep right across the hall. She was looking up to the mirror to catch the sight of a woman she doesn’t recognize anymore. Anne hates that she is crying over him and hates that she doesn’t feel like herself anymore. The woman who craves the taste of adventure, the heroine of her own story, the woman that writes because she wants to write, the girl that made every part of her life like magic. But here she is, her eyes the same but staring back as if she’s nothing but an etch from the farthest figment of her drawings of what she wished for as a little girl. The tears fall faster, each one caught in the abysses of her porcelain sink. It will pass, Anne tells herself over and over again. The wanting no, the needing to be close to him will pass. She repeats like a mantra to keep her grounded. Anne hates that she’s scared that she was terrified to let him in and allow him to love her. It is what she chose, and she will get better. Time will heal. That was the last thing Anne had told herself before wiping her tears and laying next to Roy to fall into the night of restless sleep. 

That was a year ago, and here she is setting up the dining table one too big for her liking, like a monochromatic pattern each night it goes the same. Work, cook, set the table, Roy comes home, eats, and goes to bed. It’s endless. Anne takes the bottle of wine and pours herself a glass sitting and taking in the little silence her head can manage. The doors to the apartment turn, and she knows he’s home; the sound of shoes put against the door, coats shuffling, keys dangling, and the sound of a heavy briefcase plopped onto a shelf is heard. 

“Hey love, how was your day?” Roy comes towards her to kiss her temple. He smiles, and he looks exhausted; his dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, and he has bags under his eyes. He holds a stack of mail and tosses it in the middle of the table. 

“It was good. The article I have been working on will be published in the paper, and I also convinced my boss to give me the more difficult cutting news topics.” Anne smiles to herself, thinking about the rush she got when she saw her boss’s face when she demanded to be a more respected journalist. It felt like the old Anne.

“Good! You deserve it, Anne, you’re talented, and it deserves to be recognized.” Roy exclaims, and she can hear him changing into some other clothes besides his suit.

“How was work for you?” 

“I think I might be up for a promotion. The firm said they might send me out to other companies to work on this huge legal case.” He comes back with the stew she had made earlier, two bowls, one in each hand. Placing one of them in front of Anne and sitting next to her. 

“Does this mean traveling?” Anne questions playing with her food; her spoon was messing around with the chopped carrot. 

“Perhaps. But I promise that I will give us time for just the two of us. I know I have been busy, and we haven’t had time for ourselves.” He grabs onto her hand, squeezing it, and this is one of the moments where she remembers why she fell for him. Roy’s charms and compassion for others; reminds her of when he first proposed to her. Roy would always joke around and tell her to marry him. Though Anne never really paid mind to it. That was until one day in October five years ago. 

* * *

_ The two were walking on the beach, and it was almost sunset. Anne spoke about her latest column she was writing for her job at the local paper in Toronto. He listened to every word she said and nodded like the gentleman that he was. That was what was different for her when it came to Roy. He never really put his input or enthusiasm in the conversations they had. She spoke of flowers and tragic romances while he spoke of logistics and historical fiction. However, he had a way with words almost like prose. She was his muse, and he was the poet. Roy had gotten down on one knee grabbing her hands, and like the magician with all the letters of the alphabet creating lyrics of the soul, he declared his love for her and the bright future he envisions for the two of them.  _

_ “Will you marry me?” Those were the last words he spoke to her.  _

_ Anne has read countless books on how the feeling of breathlessness that the heroine feels once their love of their lives says those four words. In the story, the heroine would gasp and recoil from the pent up emotion of love and repeat the words yes in every language unimaginable. Here, standing in front of Roy, Anne didn’t feel any of that, no instant butterflies, no tears threatening to spill, no thought on the different languages to display the word yes. It was content and calm like the rushing of the waves retreating back and forth against the sand. She thought perhaps this is how it is supposed to feel. Maybe this is what love and contentedness are, yet as she closed her eyes to get the words out, she remembers the curly-haired boy and hazel eyes repeating the words, “I can wait a lifetime for you.” “Can you deal with that?” At that moment, Anne could have run to him and apologized to him for hurting him. For how stupid she was in the heat of the moment on the faithful day of the argument. For not kissing him sooner or making each other their forever. But he was so far away already, and Gilbert was with someone else building other worlds without her. Anne couldn’t do that. She needed to look ahead to what she had, and the safety Roy is to her. She finds confidence in her heart and accepts. _

_ “Yes, I’ll marry you.” _

* * *

“That sounds wonderful. Perhaps not the city. I do miss the abundance of trees and the smell of dew in the morning.” She cups his cheek, giving him a quick kiss. 

They eat, talking about potential places to go on vacation and the workload they dealt with for the week. Both laugh at the small things that occurred, and it gives Anne a little spark in her chest. It is not that she was never happy with Roy when it was beautiful, and she felt loved, happy, content. But then, once that honeymoon stage had dissipated, it became almost distant, a bit bland. However, there were small parts of the day that reminded her of those days. She keeps on looking ahead despite the little things that call and recoil to her old self and remind her of the past. It’s like she watches every moment she has lived every time she tries to sit and listen to what is happening to her in the present. It was why Anne had the habit of going in and out of their discussions over dinner—blanking out as she nods like the programed Anne she had chosen to be, just as she is doing now staring back at the pile of mail set on the table and caught the sight of a pink ribbon that reminds her of Ruby. Grabbing the ivory envelope, she opens it and reads the description.

_ Ruby Gillis _

_ & _

_ Moody Spurgeon  _

_ Invite you to their wedding  _

_ April 26th _

_ Please RSVP _

Anne smiles to herself and can’t help but picture the little girl obsessed with bows and ribbons. She will make a gorgeous bride, and frankly, it was about time Moody popped the question, she thought. 

“It’s an invitation to Ruby’s and Moody’s wedding.” Anne beams and shows Roy the invitation.

“How lovely, when’s the date?” He questions and takes another bite of the stew.

“The 26th of April, you will be able to make it?” 

“I have to check my calendar and work. But I will try my best to be there.”

“Okay, just let me know.” Anne takes a sip of her wine, trying not to seem disappointed. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth slanted, upset. 

“Please don’t be mad, Anne.” Roy pleads and grabs her hand and places a small kiss above her knuckles. 

“I’m not, I promise. I know you can’t control how much work you get.” Anne gives him one more smile. This time gulping her drink. It became apparent that if she had gotten an invitation, she was sure Gilbert had gotten one as well. She suddenly felt a tightness around her chest and her head throbbing. She didn’t know how she would act around him if he had changed as she had changed as well. If the sound of his voice and those hazel eyes would keep her rooted as they always have or if she would be in pain from knowing she caused him heartache. More importantly, Anne was completely and utterly terrified that he would break the barriers of her skin and see right through her and read her like an open book. All the scars, the broken pieces she apologized to herself and glued together would melt and be putty in his hand. Because she would be, she would fall apart and admit the sins and temptations she had cursed upon herself when it came to him and only him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a shorter chapter. I wanted you guys to get a perspective on Anne's marriage and her life living in a city. I chose a time jump because, frankly, it gave more to the story as I continue to delve into the next chapters. You guys will see, time is important, and it is the aspect that makes the whole topic of tolerating being in a marriage that has an unequal balanced between both partners when it comes to love. It also helps with the yearn with the retrospect of knowing that the two honestly have feelings for one another. I'm working on the idea for the ending to find it to be as satisfactory and realistic, but y'all, the fluff person in me, wants the fluff. But anyway, the next chapter is going to be even more angst or maybe heart yearning. I'm excited to write it. Please tell me what you think? I thrive off of some attention knowing I did something wrong or right or even made someone mad but in a good way. Stay safe. Drink water and see you soon!


	4. Notices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Insight into Gilbert's marriage, Ruby's wedding has arisen, and Anne and Gilbert make mends on what to do around each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like promised, this chapter is longer than the previous one. I hope you like it, and I made a playlist for this story as well. I *cough* *cough* recommend listening to Maybe by James Arthur before the dance scene.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0l8pYLHo7pzKD3LkkcyaC0

He thought he was prepared for this to be able to be in the same room as her. When he had gotten the invitation, he did not know whether to cry of relief or to be worried about the meaning of his body, making involuntary hums of knowing he would see Anne again. Gilbert felt guilty for his body, unwilling to just drop everything and surrender to her. He craved her and missed her as if he were lost in a labyrinth deprived of any touch. It was a hunger he had been keeping locked inside for the very reason he knew that once that vault and part opened even for a spilled second. Gilbert would no longer cease to exist in a space that emulates Anne in any way, shape, or form. It’s been two years, and he doesn’t know who he is anymore. The man that he passes by in the hallways of hospital halls, the bathroom, the home he shares with Winnie. It’s empty, his body nothing but a vessel. All Gilbert sees is a ghost or a figment of who he is and what others perceive him. It takes him a second to figure out who the man in front of him is in reflections of the mirror or buildings he passes by on his way to the night shift at work. Marriage is a complex puzzle that he has yet to grasp fully. Marriage is a contract. It is two names on paper; it vows to pledge to love one another. But that’s the thing love is work. It is the act of working at being in love; it is not the feeling or emotion that will always just burn bright. Love can dim, and time can make the days of loving someone or the thought of love to transform into always caring for that person but not being entirely in love with them. But could he work and be this person he no longer understood or can see? Gilbert thinks almost every time he takes the time to watch and tries to notice anything that can arise in his mind when it comes to Winifred. 

She’s beautiful; she works hard to get to the position she wants to get despite her parents insisting on helping her. She’s incredibly kind and cares about others deeply. She has funny moments and can make him laugh. Yet, as he stays up late at night with her sleeping right next to him cuddled into the pillow, her blonde hair tucked behind her ears, her long lashes, and her dimples appearing as her mouth is slightly upturned. The feeling he gets is admiration and love, but it’s not the being in love. It’s not his heart beating an extra mile; no spark continuously ignites his soul trying to get a taste of living; there’s no tug in him to want to drop everything and just love. It’s quiet. It’s so quiet, and Gilbert can feel it eating him. He has to try to be this person, try to be happy, try to be in love with Winnifred. Gilbert repeats to himself. He lays, staring at the ceiling mad, frustrated at himself for not being the man that he knows he is. Gilberts angry; hot tears fall because it hurts that the dreams he has with Winnie are hazy like the dew and mist that accumulates on a mirror after a hot shower. He wipes and wipes, but it’s not clear. It’s not the colors or life he wants because, at each moment, he always pictures Anne. Knowing she will be at the wedding makes his mind whirl, and the stained glass window of her comes out of his images in his locked moments he had of her. It’s only one night, he tells himself. He just needs to be the best friend and act like he’s okay. It will be okay. He reassures himself, warning himself. 

* * *

The one night feels like an eternity to Gilbert. If one was to measure and describe what it would be like to be in the presence of what it is to be enchanted by beauty so magnetic that it emulates the blooming of roses in a garden or the right moment when orange, violet, and the red kiss the seas at dawn. It would be this. Time never ceases to exist. Only the shadows present in his portrait are that reminiscing of the woman in front of him, three feet across, an arm's length away. The slope of her nose was upturned. Her shoulders are bare, covered in freckles like tiny blossoms painted delicately on a sleek canvas, cherry red hair cascading down her back contrasting against her dark green dress, and her lips tainted the color of strawberries taking sips out of the champagne flute. Gilbert notices everything about Anne, the small minimal movements, the little nervous ticks, her ignoring him. Anne doesn’t even look his way. She is laughing with the girls and continuously playing with her earring—another one of her nervous ticks he picked up on. 

Anne is not oblivious to Gilbert. She can feel his eyes on her. Any movement she makes, she can feel the flash of heat and tingles that spread from her fingers that shoots up to her spine. Anne doesn’t dare to look at him yet. She knows that once she locks eyes with him, he will understand how she feels, and then all the work of putting her walls up will vanish beneath the pools of his hazel eyes. He looks better than last time. His hair is still curly as ever, with the same two curls sticking out in different directions. His dark navy blue dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a cobalt grey tie, a new watch on his left hand, and the two dimples ever so prominent when he smiles or talks are still as beautiful as ever. Anne notices all of him and tries to draw it in her mind like her personal etch a sketch. She takes her time trying to take all of him in, each part of him sacred to look at it but too ethereal not to notice. 

The two pulling that invisible tethered string coiled around their pinky fingers back and forth. It creates tension, and it builds at each small movement, glance. It becomes the one thing that keeps their soul connected; The one thing that acknowledges their presence between one another and understanding that the roots that each of them planted with one another are continually sprouting. It craves the energy and attention like flowers grown from the concrete’s cracks begging for the sun to shine down on them. Life burns through the string and travels to each of their insides, and it becomes too much. Gilbert can only question how long he is willing to go on without a word from her. Surrounded by friends, he talks with the boys hoping none of them notice what he is thinking or feeling. That is until the bride and groom come around to their table and sit to greet each of them and ask the question he had tried to stall for as long as he could. 

“Gilbert, where’s Winifred?” Moody asks him, and the table becomes silent, all staring at him, all except Anne. 

“She got caught up in a work event. She wished she could be here.” He replied. Winnie did have a work event, but she also had some family engagements to attend. He remembered the small argument they had when discussing how they both need to prioritize one another and their decisions. 

“And Roy?” Ruby looked to her friend, eyes curious, and her arms wrapped around her husband.

“Job promotion, he had to travel for a legal case,” Anne explains and feels Diana grips her hand underneath the table. Anne looks at her best friend giving her a small smile squeezing her hand back. Diana is the only one who knows about the way she and Roy’s marriage has been. 

“Well, that’s alright. We have the Avonlea gang back, and that’s all that matters. Maybe we will have the infamous Anne and Gilbert debates arise like back then.” Ruby laughs, and the others join in chatting around the two about the infamous debates they always got into. Anne takes the ten seconds of courage and glances at him. He was already looking at her, and they stay like that for a moment. His eyes soften, and it’s the look he always gave her, the one she learned that was reserved for her and her only. Anne takes a minute and swallows a breath, and she turns to Diana to excuse herself to the restroom. 

Gilbert becomes worried and wants to go after her but finds Diana already making her way after her. He doesn’t notice that he is still looking in the direction she left until Ruby sits next to him, placing a hand on his arm, giving him a soft look.

“You’re still in love with her.” She says quietly, looking at him, waiting for his reaction. 

“Who?” Gilbert tries to play dumb, looking down at his watch as if it’s the most entertaining thing to him.

“Don’t play dumb, Gilbert Blythe. You’re still in love with Anne. I can see it clear as day I may be the last person for you to expect me to notice. But Gilbert, you forget when I was younger, I had a massive crush on you. I know when someone has feelings for someone. Granted, it was a little girl crush, and if I weren’t so blind to admit that it was just that, then I would have hauled Anne’s ass to you and locked you both inside a closet to welcome your feelings to one another.” Ruby tells him that all of these things she had said were the most obvious thing to her. Gilbert looks up at the woman obsessed with pink when she was a little girl and had captured his best friend Moody’s heart, who liked to write songs about her or kill a spider for her despite the fact he was terrified of them.

“Anne never liked me in that way or at least wanted to be with me in that way.” 

“Are you sure? You forget that you both are terrible at communication, and you’re the smart ones. Considering all the things you both have been through, there had to be fear at the back of her mind, maybe even yours.” She tries to fix one of his curls that has a mind for itself.

“When did you become a genius, Ruby Spurgeon?’ He smiles a real one because he is grateful to have someone like her as a friend for his best friend to have her in his life.

“When I decided I was going to live and get the things I want by being honest with myself. Be careful, Gilbert, with your heart and hers. You both are married and decided to make these decisions. I wish for your happiness and hers as well. Just don’t be an idiot.” She warns and hugs him. Gilbert hugs her back, looking over her shoulder at Moody, who mouths to him if everything is okay, at which he puts two thumbs up. 

Anne comes out from the restroom with Diana by her side, and she sees Gilbert and Ruby hugging and wonders what happened. She only hopes that no one noticed her leaving or her eyes puffy. Gilbert does notice that something was wrong, and Anne wasn’t acting like herself. He saw her try to cover up the fact that she wasn’t with laughs and bright smiles. But he saw her eyes rimmed red and swollen. So he took the plunge and decided enough was enough. Everyone was immersed with one another, and the seat on the other side was empty. He makes his way and sits down and asks, “Hey, are you okay?” She stops and looks almost surprised that he was next to her and asked her that question. 

“Yea, I’m okay. I’ll be okay.” 

“What about you? How are you?” She turns herself to face him and tries not to look up at him so much for fear that she will get sucked in and never return.

“I’m alright.” He says, hoping it sounds as earnest as it can. He looks at her, wishing she would take a second to look at him without diverting eye contact.

“You sure you look a little tired, Dr.Blythe? Are those babies and children at the hospital treating you well, or are they sucking the life out of you? I believe I see some eye bags.” She teases him, and she sees him chuckle, and his dimples become even more prominent. 

“I’m exhausted, but those kids are the best part of my work. The kids are like older men and women in a young body. They are incredibly wise, believe it or not, and a bit nosey. They know how to get what they want; one girl guilt-tripped me to give her an extra sticker.” Gilbert animatedly talks with his hands, and it’s a habit he has. It happens every time he talks about his work. About anything he is passionate about and loves. Anne adores it.

“ Now that I can believe. Delly doesn’t even have to do anything to get you to buy her something. She kisses you on the cheek, gives her wide doe eyes, and you’re like putty in her hands.”

“Not true. Anne, she knows how to play you too. You give in after she says please.”

“She knows what she wants, and she goes for it. I can’t help it that girl will be a force to reckon with; I must teach her how to be a conscientious objector to the status quo. Unlike her uncle that likes to call people names after vegetables.” Anne challenges him as if to say she is not right. She shrugs and takes a sip of her champagne. 

“Ah yes, carrots, I should bring that nickname back. For the record, I was twelve, and I didn’t know what I was saying.” Gilbert gets closer where they are both close enough that their knees could brush against each other with one movement. 

“I will not be named after a vegetable. It’s an ugly vegetable, and also, who the hell calls someone that thinks it would be cute!”

“Me! Look, if I can go back and do it over again, I would. I could come up with hundreds of names and things to compare to you that are way more deserving than carrots.” He admits, and it becomes a bubble of the two of them—the knees grazing, their hands in their laps, trying not to touch one another. The magnetism was palpable, their skin breathing in the life of one another. The two’s need to fuse to be one and never return to the chained reality they had ultimately constructed themselves. He spoke, with the meaning of so much more than a harmless joke because they knew what he meant. They knew what those words were trying to say to her. 

Anne clears her throat to try to get out of the trance they both are under and responds with something she knows she probably shouldn’t, but the other part of her brain wants to know. She needs to know.

“Like what?” Gilbert becomes surprised at the question and takes a breath in. 

“You’re like the sky. Not at the time where it is bright daylight. It’s the moment when it becomes dusk. The very last second before twilight hits. When the colors start to fold from grey to the deepest reds and softest lilacs, it’s the moment that the world has become your portrait. Before it fades to the universe, and all you see are stars scattered above and whisper a wish so quietly just in case anyone hears and hopes that the desire comes true. Gilbert lets these words fall into perfect unison, and he says them because he doesn’t know when he will see her again. He wants to say so much more. He wants to tell her he loves her and still does, to hold her and breathe in her scent, to feel her heartbeat against his. But he can’t, so he only says this in hopes she feels and understands. 

“Oh- that is much better than carrots.” She hides her face looking at the position they are in, and leans back into her chair to give them room. She was breaking their bubble.

Throughout the evening, Anne and Gilbert had come into a mutual agreement to be just themselves. Despite what they felt whenever they were close, they slowly began to delve into being Anne and Gilbert again. Their friendship, just as before, never left them. The figment of the ghosts of who they were with each other had never left. It only became the shadow of them waiting to be alive again. The two are still sitting next to one another, conversing with their friends about their drunken adventures in college. Little did they know that their friends knew that there was something off between them and noticed the slight difference in how they acted with one another. Cole and Diana were especially prevalent in the subtle actions of their friends. How the two would whisper things to one another and laugh, how Gilbert would just drink from Anne’s glass, how Anne would try to fix his hair, and the two giving small glances every once in a while. It may not have been evident what the two were doing or acting like, but their friends could see the full picture in front of them. 

Gilbert didn’t quite understand if the way he was interacting with Anne was how they always interacted or if he was overthinking. But as he was swaying and dancing to the corny pop music from the early 2000s with Cole and Jerry, it was the first time he noticed he no longer felt a heavy weight on his shoulders. No longer feeling like every move he would make was watched, the way he talked or dressed didn’t matter, or the trying to be the perfect guy that everyone had made him up to be was not on his conscience. He was Gilbert, the boy who grew up on the farm, who can’t cook for the life of him except for the occasional plain or under-seasoned meals from Marys’s recipes. He was the boy back in Avonlea that would read his dad’s favorite novel wrapped in his mother’s blanket. Gilbert was not hollow. He was whole. And there, right across from him, is the girl that made him feel more than enough in the last eight hours. The woman he can see his dreams, wanting to grow grey and old with; and it was always Anne, and he knew it was his fault for not getting the courage to tell her sooner or communicate with her about the possibilities of what they could have been. It hurt. He did not want to think about it because it was wrong in so many ways, to want someone so bad and that person, not be the one you are married to who he knew deserved the world. Not a man that’s heart is half-way through the door and the other out in hopes that someday Anne might feel the same. 

So Gilbert takes this night as the night where he leaves all his heart in hers and hopes she keeps it safe because the moment he leaves, he knows he will have to do better, be better not to himself but Winnie because he owed her that. Gilbert heads towards his best friend, extends his arm out, and asks,

“Come on and dance with me, Anne. Please just one.” 

“Gil, this is a slow dance. You can’t dance.” Anne tries to decline because she knows that it will be challenging to think once they are close to each other.

“Not true, come on, Queen Anne.” He does a small bow, smirking at her in hopes she laughs and just goes with it.

“Fine, I guess I can make time for a commoner.” She laughs and takes him towards the dance floor.

A slower song plays in the background. Anne follows him to the dance floor. Her left-hand rests on his left shoulder, and his right hand wrapped around her smaller part of her back. Their other hands clasped together. She immediately is covered in the scent of mahogany and cinnamon, and it brings her back to that one day. Like a photo album, many pages and pictures of them together come to life again in her memories. She has yet to look at him. Instead, she takes all of what she feels in; Gilbert’s thumb is running up and down against her dress’s fabric. His head is resting against hers. He can smell her perfume and takes a small breath in, trying to savor it before anything can happen. He sways them around, their feet going side by side, dancing slower than the song’s tempo, but they don’t notice. Each part that he feels close to him becomes fire and molten, and his body hums again. As if his body had finally found the missing piece of himself, the key to all the missing words and answers in a crossword. The key that he gave her to his heart for her to keep a long time ago.

Gilbert spins Anne around, and she laughs. He pulls her back in, and when he finally meets her eyes. The sky’s color, the crystal silvers, and blues like when the first snowfall meets the lakes. Anne looks up and can see him. The honey and the moss-colored green were flowing through his pupils. It seems to mimic her like a mirror as she keeps staring into his eyes. They stay like that, staring at one another, trying to understand what each is trying to say, and to Gilbert, Anne looks different, not the girl that was laughing earlier. He sees exhaustion, almost sad eyes. It doesn’t crinkle when she smiles anymore, and It was rimmed with loneliness and temptation. He knows she doesn’t need saving or help. Anne can handle herself, but at that moment, he wanted to tell her everything will be okay, that all the pain she was feeling, he was feeling it too. 

“I missed you, Anne,” Gilbert admits and keeps them swaying back and forth to the music.

“I’ve missed you too, Gil.” She answers and rests her head against his shoulder. He was warm, sturdy; he felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I hear you’re giving New York a run for their money at that job of yours.” He brings her a little closer.

“I’m a force to be reckoned with.” She can feel him chuckle, and she closes her eyes, enjoying the moment.

“That you are. How’s Roy? I’m sorry he couldn’t be here.”

“He’s doing well. How’s Winifred?”

“She’s doing well.” It becomes silent between them. Not knowing what to talk about without talking about their marriages. 

“Gil-do, you ever wonder what it would be like if we were -” Anne begins to say.

“Please, Anne. Don’t say it; we can’t say things like that because I think about it even when I try not to; it always comes back to you. And I can’t think like that. It hurts too much.” Gilbert cuts her sentence off before she can finish and shakes his head, trying to keep himself from wanting to spill his heart out and cry.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, and she grips onto him tighter.

“I’m sorry too. Anne, I heard what you said that night.” He whispers back, and Anne pulls back to face him, her eyes brimmed with tears and her lips quivering.

“I meant it.” She breathes out, her eyes closed, finally letting him know that she does love him. She feels him rest his head against hers, his breath fanning her lips.

“I did too,” Gilbert murmurs as if he hopes to know one can hear what he has said. Anne opens her eyes and is met with his. Their breathing is becoming in sync, and she wants to chase his lips and never let go—their lips ghost over one another, both not leaning in. 

“We can’t,” Anne tells him and pulls away.

“I know.” 

“Just hold me for a bit, Gil, please.” Gilbert nods and hugs her in the middle of the dance floor for as long as he can until there is no one around them; Until she says goodbye once more.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I came and delivered another chapter, surprisingly a bit earlier than usual. We have to thank being on break for that. Though school is starting soon, I'll try my best to keep posting at least within a week or two. This chapter was, let's say, a bit more of the insight on Anne and Gilbert fighting with their better judgment. Anne and Gilbert are by no means perfect. They make mistakes, and they learn from them. In this case, it deals with the inner conflict of being able to be content or understanding that their choices have consequences. Let's face it, their communication skills are not great, and as a person about to get her degree in coms, it hurts, and it sucks. Anne and Gilbert are tug and pull, and you will notice this throughout the story. Now if this was a movie they would leave and be all dandy. But nope not in this life, they gotta go through some tribulations and understanding themselves before anything else. Basically, they have to learn to deal with consequences for a bit.  
> I hope you liked the chapter it hurt me to write it but a good way. Please feel free to put your thoughts, did you get mad? did you cry? are you frustrated yet?  
> Stay safe, drink water, be kind to one another, and watch some Anne with an E for a bit or not. See ya soon!


	5. I Wait by the Door like I'm just a Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne gets some barreling news that changes her night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of death  
> If you are wondering what songs I listen to while writing this chapter besides tolerate it, I listened to Fall by James Arthur, so take that as hints to the theme of this chapter and a bit inside of what's inside my head as I write.

Anne always stares out of the expansive panned windows, continually staring at the skyscrapers and trying to feel anything other than the thought of being stuck. She’s falling and not in the literal sense but in the way that she thinks in between shock and like her body is no longer her own. She often finds herself in a trance at random times from cooking and getting lost in the reflection of the pots and pans or the water she boils for the pasta. Anne loses her senses when she wonders how people can have everything in the palm in their hands, but she always goes back to ask herself what does one do when they have all they can want but are not happy? Is it that she grew out of the phase of what she wanted? Or is it something she thought she wanted but didn’t need? This action occurs daily. Then there is the other part of her life where she waits. It’s the act of being patient just as a kid waits for their mother at the door to come home from work. Anne watches the flashes of coats, suits, and ties going in and out of their apartment. Sometimes far and sometimes close, but mostly far. It started with one day, then one week, then three. Roy has become a looming shadow in their marriage. It’s not his fault that he has to work, and it requires so much of his time. It’s just that Anne didn’t know how much of that time would be without her. He did promise her a vacation, and they did have one, and it was peace, no more intrusive thoughts, no more hazel eyes staring back at her; she was content. 

But as she goes to bed each night with the bed empty and cold, all she could think about was what she did wrong with her life. How much she wished she never became this person who sleeps and wakes up to silence. Anne is tired of lying to her friends, to her parents about how she is happy—posting photos on social media with happy captions about how perfect her life, her marriage is. It’s all wrong. Her replies of “I’m happy, and I’m fine” in her texts to Matthew are clouded with her tears as she types her responses. Anne is lost. The only person who has looked past that isn’t here and far from available. It would be tricky terrain. But Diana always knew when Anne was lying to her and herself. Ruby and Moody’s wedding proved that when they spoke in the restroom, one night, they broke down. Revealing many of her fears and wants to her best friend.

* * *

_ Anne barges into the restroom, checking the stalls to make sure they are empty. Diana, close behind her face, filled with worry. _

_ “Anne, what’s wrong?” Diana goes to grab her friend from pacing back and forth, Anne’s hands shaking. _

_ “Di, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t do this.” Anne mumbles, and her eyes are full of fear and heartache. _

_ “What can’t you do, Anne? Talk to me.” She sees her best friend take a breath of air, her eyelids fluttering. _

_ “Gilbert. I missed him Di so much, and I thought I could do this that I could see him and not feel something or hold my tongue from saying something stupid. But he looked at me- like before.” Anne nervously voiced out, and she hasn’t told Diana what happened on her wedding night. What the two spoke about and never mentioned again. _

_ “Honey, I know. “ _

_ “No, that’s just it. You don’t know. I told Gil I loved him on my wedding day. He told me he loved me, and I didn’t even stop myself from saying it back. On my wedding day! I’m disgusted with myself I can barely look at myself in the mirror half the time. I don’t know who I am anymore. It’s like the Anne I once was died, and it buried itself in me in such a hollow shell and became dormant. And I beg every day for her to wake up and make me feel something other than guilty, lost, and unhappy. Do you know what the worst thing is? I felt that Anne stir in me, grow like she finally felt the sun, and it only happened when I saw Gil.” Anne is breathing heavy, her chest heaving. Her cheeks flooded with tears falling down her face, throat aches and constrict. She’s choking on her regret. _

_ “Come here.” Anne hugs Diana. She was gripping on her shoulders, trying to find the anchor to keep her grounded. To keep her from drawing in the ghosts of painful regret and her past.  _

_ “I was a coward, Diana. I was so scared to let him in, and he told me he would wait for me. I told him that I didn’t want him to. I said to him that us being together would have been wrong and hurt us in the end. Look where that ended up. I settled in a marriage with a man that deserves much more than me. I don’t know how he tolerates it. I know he knows something off. I don’t know how I’m tolerating it.” She cries out and feels Diana gripping her tighter.  _

_ “I’m going to say this once. Anne, I knew you were in love with Gilbert for the longest time. I didn’t say anything because you said you were happy with Roy and when I asked you about Gilbert, you shut it down every time. I hoped you would have understood sooner. It’s not just your fault. It’s Gilbert’s as well. Both of you were too scared to do anything. He could have done something sooner. You guys are both in a situation that you have decided to make. I think it all comes down to if you are willing to let go of Gilbert for the sake of your marriage. If not- then you have a lot to think about.” She explains and wipes Anne’s tears. _

_ “What if I don’t know?” _

_ “Time. Anne, take that as something to help you. One small choice can make a difference. Don’t rush. Just ask yourself, is this what you want, not what others expect you to want?”  _

_ “Okay.” Anne whispers. _

That was the last thing she remembered. She still is unsure what her final decision will be. The truth is that for as long as she could remember, she was told she would never find someone that would love her. Want her, let alone marry her. Then when she met Roy, it was just like the books and movies, and in a sense, it made perfect sense for her to be with him. Then Gilbert was always there. He never made her feel less than; he went through each part of her life, her stepping stone. But the idea of him knowing all of her, knowing the small pieces of herself that she had learned to clasp together with words of content and safety, is terrifying. To have to lean on someone other than herself was like being bare and stripped down to every scratch, pinch, and atom of herself. Being vulnerable was the epitome of lying in the abyss of red and orange leaves in the middle of the woods, with the only thing that makes you feel alive and held are the pocket of small rays of light beaming down and the sound of winds carrying each insecurity away. She doesn’t blame anyone but herself. 

Anne realized that there were moments where she never really took the time to understand herself before she dived into being in a relationship. She got caught up in the notions of being loved rather than loving all the bad parts and accepting them. But instead, she took those parts and embellished them to be the person everyone wanted her to be or who she believed they wanted to see. Those were the moments when Anne realized that she never allowed herself to understand that Gilbert had loved her because she defied every notion of the genuinely raw and real parts of herself. That only he could see despite the walls and fake masks she carried with her. There was no manual for how to love, no one told her how one can crack under pressure by a gaze, how the feelings of fingertips grazing can ignite something in the soul that becomes so addictingly satisfying, or that each choice is not by just one person but two. 

So here Anne finds herself now, in bed alone. The silk sheets wrapped around her body, staring at the clock at her bedside table. Counting each minute, watching the numbers strike slowly to the next. Hoping for the next click of the number, she will hear the familiar footing of her husband. Maybe this time she will get to say goodnight to him, this time she thinks. Perhaps she can feel him next to her and not wake up to another empty spot she ponders. 

Then the clicks turn from nine to ten to eleven, and the keys finally rattle against the door, the familiar footing walking into the room. Anne still lay staring at the clock. The end of the bed dips, and Anne can hear a sigh. 

“Your dinner is in the microwave.” She mutters out, and Roy is startled, turning to look at her.

“Oh, thanks. Love. Why are you still awake?” He questions and runs his hand through his hair, his tie was hanging around his shoulders, shirt untucked.

“Just wanted to get a chance to see my husband, that’s all.” She speaks flatly, a voice full of irritation but not to his face. She keeps staring at the clock to the left of her. 

“Anne, please let’s not start. How was your day?”

“Let’s not start. Just like that, steer the conversation to something else just like usual.” She sits up, pieces of her hair falling in front of her face. Roy was stunned to hear Anne speak out like that.

“What do you mean I’m steering the conversation. I’m asking you how your day was. What’s wrong with that?” 

“That’s just it, Roy. We never argue. You always just agree with everything I say or change the topic right before we do argue.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s good when we talk about real ideas, our thoughts, understand one another’s disagreements. But most of the time, it’s like we’re freaking cardboard cutouts saying “yes honey,” “of course, honey.” Ever since you got promoted, you haven’t asked how I was feeling.” Anne explained, her voice thick with tiredness and melancholy. She’s picking at her fingers, and she can feel Roy’s eyes on her. 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to provide for us and wanting to gain us a better life. I assumed you were happy. You told me you were happy that I got the promotion, and now you changed your mind and hated that I did something for myself.” Roy says, passively walking back and forth at the end of the bed. Anne becoming red, she stops picking her fingers.

“I did not say that I wasn’t happy. Stop putting words in my mouth. I was proud of you for that promotion, but you are never home.” 

“I am at home. I’m home right now, aren’t I?” His tone flat, and he waves his arms wide to show he is there.

“Oh bravo, what a gentleman, and what time is it, Roy?” Anne motions to the clock by her, and it now says 11:30 pm.

“I have to work, Anne. I can’t just leave when I want to. I have priorities.” Roy stresses, and Anne shakes her head, getting out of the bed, putting on a sweater heading towards the kitchen, trying to distract herself from crying. She turns on the kettle. He follows her and watches every move she makes—the ringing of the phone ricochets. 

“Priorities! What about me, huh? You are gone all the damn time, do you know what that’s like?” She frustratingly raises her voice, her arms wrapped around herself. Trying to hold on to her for comfort. 

“You’re telling me that I’m the one who’s gone all the time! What about you? I don’t even know where you are most of the time; it’s like you’re living in your head most of the time!” It’s silent, and Anne and Roy look at one another. Both furious, the sound her phone rings again. 

“It’s because I don’t know who I am anymore! I’m so tired of sitting at the table eating alone with just myself and yea Roy, maybe sometimes I’m caught up in my head, but that’s because I have no friends here, I’m in a city that is never quiet, In a job I have to fight for all the time, I moved here for you because you wanted me too! I sacrificed everything for this! Do you not understand how it is to be lying in the dark, with all but your thoughts. Do you want to know what happens? You resort back to the only thing you got, and that is yourself.” Anne’s voice cracks as she admits this. Her breathing rapid, and she can feel her lungs wanting to burst. She’s drowning in her sea of sorrows, and there is no one there to save her. It’s the small girl she was scared to revisit who had come back to haunt her whispering the foul words of how it’s her fault or how she is not good enough. All she wants is for someone to hold her, to let those loud thoughts stop, and she pictures the cure, the one that coaxes the pain into swirls of soft grips of warmth around her heart. Her lips quiver and she bites her tongue so hard as not to scream.

“Anne, I can’t let this job go. We can get through this.” He tries to hold her hand, and she moves away.

“No, Roy, because how much longer will I have to be waiting for you to come home. You’re married to your job, not me.” Another ring of her phone echoes in the room. It drowns the silence between the two.

“I didn’t ask for you to give anything up. You made those choices.”

“So it’s my fault that I feel like this? You’re not going to take any blame?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, when you find out, let me know. I think we need a break. I need a break.” She whispers

“You know what maybe we do; Maybe then I can get the Anne I married back.” The phone rings one more time, and Anne gives up and goes to their bedroom.

Anne looks to see it was Marilla, and in the next two minutes, she understood the meaning of having every moment of regret listed in the back of the hand. To have the feeling of being so small in a world where nothing but greed and possessive jealousy of life want to make every part of the beating heart theirs to claim. It’s the flash of black and white film that plays over again like a VHS home tape. It clicks, winds up, and the sound of kids laughing, bright memories with parents are aglow. That’s the beauty of the mind. It’s everchanging; neurons grow, and once in a while, those stored memories that made one whole submerge to remind one of how to thank those that raised you made you into the person you are today. That’s what Anne witnesses now, but instead of memories, it’s flight or fight. Her hands are mechanically grasping the drawer to grab clothes, her suitcase, and her passport. The only words repeating in her head is “not now,” “home first,” “Help Marilla.” She grabs her toothbrush, her phone charger, her shoes and repeats the same words.

Roy comes into the room and can see his wife pale-faced, shoving things into her suitcase.

“Anne, what’s wrong?” 

“Not now, Roy, I need to get back home.” She rushes to change into some clothes. It’s now two am in the morning. 

“Just leave me alone,” Anne shouts and grabs her things heading towards the door. Roy follows her, trying not to let her go.

“Anne, you can’t just leave!” He shouts after her, Anne’s back facing him. 

“Roy, I said leave me the hell alone! Marilla needs me. Matthew- ” Anne can’t finish the sentence she leaves Roy behind, who is trying to catch up with her. She calls for a cab.

“I’m coming with you.” He grabs onto her hand, the wind blowing through the night. The cars were blurring by, and the lights were still as bright as ever.

“No, Roy, you are not! I need to be alone. Please just let me be alone for a while. I’ll see you there. But I need to be alone, please, Roy.” She pleads with him, almost begging for him to leave her be. She doesn’t want him near her. She doesn’t know if she wants anyone near her. She is trying to stay composed for the sake of others. Her adrenaline runs through her veins, keeping her steady. It’s not the time for her to panic or become distressed. She has one job, which is to be back at home.

“Fine. But tell me as soon as you get to Avonlea. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He lets go of her hand and helps her into the taxi. Anne nods, and just like that, she is on her way to the airport.

Her heart is beating fast, and it wants release. It wants to cry out the pain that has been building ever since she got the call from Marilla. Anne refuses to cry in the back of the taxi. Then she hears another ring from her purse. Her phone filled with missed text messages and calls from her friends, the caller ID flashes with the name she tried not to think about every day. 

“Anne,” Gilbert calls out her name in a hushed tone.

“Gil. I- I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She whimpers, trying to breathe. 

“Hey, hey shhh, I’m here.” 

“Gil, it hurts. Matthew is gone. He left, and I didn’t get to tell him-” She couldn’t finish her sentence as she started to let parts of that wall crumble. Each wave of pain, sorrow, guilt, sadness hit one at a time. Each was taking its turn to wash in and out like the tides in the ocean. It pulled her in, and she couldn’t escape. She felt a piece of her break that night. If there was only something that can break her free from it, but for now, she let herself think it and let it soak in because it was also the only way to remind herself; That what was happening wasn’t a dream. The one thing keeping her afloat was the small muffled sounds of Gilbert telling her, “I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be mad at me! I did put character death in the tags but there's a reason why I had this happen. Believe me, this was some tough stuff to write. I love Matthew. I know I'm putting poor Anne in some hurtful situations and my shirbert heart wants them to be happy. But the spiral of this is ultimate because Anne is starting to understand more about herself but as well as being in a situation such as this will catapult into some serious decisions for her and the things she will ultimately do. As well as for Gilbert this will be a path that will take him in multiple directions. We like layers! for them. I did say this was going to be realistic or as much as it could be. Anywho I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for being a part of this journey. Feel free to comment your annoyance or cries away It gives me motivation and helps me understand your guy's brain in this story. Stay safe, drink water, and be kind to one another! till then.  
> Question: How would you like for this story to end?


	6. Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne is dealing with the loss of Matthew, and Gilbert is lost in thought. Both will be dwelling their choices, and their marriages will become even rockier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was playing in the background if you want to understand my thought process.  
> Not like the movies by Katy Perry  
> Supermarket Flowers by Ed Sheeran  
> This is me Trying by Taylor Swift  
> Out of Love with you by Avery Lynch  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0l8pYLHo7pzKD3LkkcyaC0

There are countless stories about soulmates and each person’s belief destined with one so perfect that it makes everything fall into place. But no one tells the stories about the tragedies that come along with love. Then there is a wise tale of soul mates connected through the connection by a single strand of red thread. Or the story of how past lives create contracts that decide the path they will take and when they want to meet their other half. In those contracts, it’s written that each person has to go through specific steps of hardship and growth before they ever become one. But no one tells the story about what happens when one finds their very own half of their soul in pain and so far from the other. No one tells that person how to cope with the pain that feels or absorbs like their soulmate is sending signals for help. It becomes a telepathic communication on a soul level, and it’s when one of the halves feels helpless. And this is the feeling that Gilbert had become very much attuned to ever since the day he had laid his eyes on Anne. 

Hearing Anne cry on the phone was one of the worst feelings he had endured. The reason is that Gilbert knew those cries very well. He knew them well because he had cried that way too before. It was the cries where he had to hold himself alone, laying in his father’s bed screaming for him to come back to him. It was the cries where his throat became so raw and his eyes splotchy with red. Where he wrapped himself in his father’s blankets and clutched to his pillows, pretending that his father was there to say it was going to be okay, that he would always be there to hold him. It was the worst part because death doesn’t just happen to the person. It happens to those they leave. It lingers like a scent and makes an imprint on those they have walked paths with through their life.

Gilbert didn’t want to picture that of Anne, and he had to leave. He had to tell her he was there, that he was there to hold her and that he understood. So here he is, packing his bags as quickly as he can. He had coaxed her on the phone as long as he could before she reached the airport. He knew he didn’t need to say anything, only the words he would say; Gilbert knew what it was like for others to sympathize and give him those sad eyes. He didn’t have work today, and he took that to his advantage to get to be there for her as soon as he could. Running around the apartment trying to gather his things, he hears Winnie call out.

“Gilbert, what are you doing? Where are you going?” She looks around the room and sees all of his clothes piled on top of their bed.

“Avonlea. Anne’s dad passed away.” He quickly answers, going in and out of the room with different toiletries. 

“Gilbert, you can’t just leave,” Winnie exclaims, trying to stop him from packing any further.

“Why not?” He stops in front of her and looks at her as if what she did say was ridiculous. 

“ Well, for one, it’s like four in the morning, and I don’t know you have other obligations.” 

“Like what a fancy dinner with your parents’ fancy friends. I already have work off and can call in for more time off.” Gilbert has never told Winnie about his feelings about her family and how much he disliked being at dinner parties or her parents’ benefits they hold with people of higher prestige. They are kind people, but he always felt expected to be someone different around them and forever known as the doctor and the promise he has for the family. Gilbert felt more like an accessory on the mantel for them to praise, and he hated it. 

“I’m sorry, what? Gilbert, you are not going to Avonlea right now.” She crosses her arms and tries to make her stance with him. She grabs his clothing, throwing it across the room.

“Yes, I am. Anne needs me- her friends there.”

“And I need you here. Anne has Roy. We can fly out a day earlier before the funeral.”

“But Winnie.” He softens his look at her, and he doesn’t know what to say or how to react. One part of him wants to leave, and the other wants to be a good husband.

“You’re staying. You can wait for a little. Stay with me.” She cups his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his chin, and looks at him, trying to get him to stay and understand what she is saying.

“Okay.” Gilbert caves in and backs away from her hold, and puts his clothes and toiletries away. Ignoring Winnifred and shutting the door to the bathroom. He said okay, knowing he had to try with her. But it didn’t feel any better. He worried for Anne and wanted her close. So he calls her one more time just to see but this time she doesn’t answer.

**Two weeks later:**

Gilbert has been to only one funeral he could remember. Maybe he had been to many more when he was just a baby. Perhaps he had been there for his mothers. The feeling of melancholy grips along your shoulders, and it always feels the same. Despite the person who has passed, the surface was still the same. It was like being trapped and confined in nothing but shadows and emptiness. But this was Matthew who had become like an uncle to him, he was the man that had few words, but his actions spoke the loudest. He taught Gilbert how to tie a tie, change the oil in his car, play cards, defended him in the small arguments he would have with Bash or Mary, and he always listened to Gilbert despite the time of day. He never made him feel less than; he made Gilbert feel understood in the smallest but biggest ways. It was like Anne said they were all kindred spirits to one another. But seeing the dark soil piled on the ground and the hedge stone had made those entire memories become so much more clearer. It made life so much clearer in the way that it felt as there was a microscope put above his head, and all the little decisions that he had made could have taken him somewhere different. How things like emotions, love, time, opportunity, family, and courage are all that compose a beautiful life. Which led him to look at the woman across from him; The woman with auburn hair that burns with light, who is the very image of his angel that added the small stories of hope and love we find in the back of the notebooks filled with drawings. She wasn’t worth the footnotes in his life; she was worth every piece and part from beginning to the end. She gave him those things that were composed of a beautiful life since the moment she stepped into his path, and eventually, when theirs collided, it had suddenly become a whole story. 

Anne has flowers clutched in her hands, and some of them lay on the ground. She’s squeezed next to Marilla as if she is grounding herself for the both of them. Roy is behind her, his hand on his shoulder as if to say he is there. On the other side of her is Diana holding her hand. Everyone is in black, the skies are grey, and the only pop of color are those flowers that lay on the ground. Gilbert catches Anne’s eyes, and she looks exhausted but scared, as if the only thing that has been working without any rest was her thoughts. Her body left behind, trying to catch up to every idea she had. Gilbert tries to move to go towards her and be able to hug her, to tell her, “it’s okay.” The people around him, dispersing, heading their way towards Green Gables, all expect Anne, Roy, Diana, Winnie, and himself. There is an unspoken tension between them all. Gilbert takes a step toward Anne but feels pulled back by Winnie, clutching his arm as if he will dissipate. 

“Winnie.” He whispers, tired and frustrated. He grabs her hand, unwraps it from his arm, and goes towards Anne. He doesn’t want to start anything with her. They have been arguing non-stop since he stayed back home.

Gilbert catches Anne before she leaves, they’re only a foot apart, and he desperately wants to be able to put the lock of hair that keeps falling out from her ponytail behind her ear. But he refrains and settles for gently grabbing her wrist, rubbing his thumb back and forth. 

“Gil” She strangles out his name. Trying not to cry, she hasn’t cried since she was in the cab. She doesn’t want to be a burden. She doesn’t want to seem weak. She has to take care of Marilla. 

“I’m here.” He whispers, and his eyes soften like they always do, and his mouth slants a bit, almost as if he was about to pout. She wants to lift her hand to graze his cheek, to bring him closer.

“You’re here,” Anne whispers back and feels Roy’s hand on her waist, trying to get her to leave. 

“Always.” He tells her as if that was the most natural instinct to say he would never leave her. Anne looks as if she wants to say something but has pulled back when Roy tells her they need to go. She shakes her head, frustrated, taking his hand off of her waist. Gilbert takes a step forward and feels a hand grab onto his elbow to pull him back once more and knows it’s Winnie by the smell of her floral scent. Gilbert’s about to tell her to leave him alone but sees Diana come and grab Anne. Diana looks at Gilbert as if she is communicating, “I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.” and it eases his nerves for a moment. But it doesn’t eliminate it, it festers, and he knows it will continue to fester and grow until he gets to see and talk to Anne for himself. 

Hours past than those hours soon turned to long nights and days he had yet been able to get to see Anne or talk to her alone. He had sent multiple texts and calls to her, but she never answered. He was worried, and of course, he was going out of his mind. Winnie had been continuously trying to get him to go out with her and have some fun. But he always answered with “no thanks” or “not now.” Gilbert would instead value his time playing with Delly or helping Bash out at the farm and waiting for Mary to see any news about Anne or Marilla. 

“Gilbert, for goodness sake, just go see her for yourself; you can just drop the food off for me,” Mary exclaims. She is currently making an array of sweets and stews for the Cuthberts.

“But every time I go. I get turned away from Roy.” It was the truth; Gilbert would drop by almost daily trying to see Anne. But every time he was in a three-foot radius of Green Gables, Roy would tell him that Anne doesn’t want to see anybody or how she is helping Marilla.

“Mmm, that boy needs to be careful. Just go and try again but remember everyone grieves differently, and maybe Anne won’t be the same or a bit off. Just be easy with her, okay?” She gives him a warning, one like a mom does with her eyebrow raised and her hand on her hip, and packs some of the food in containers and shoving it in his arms.

“I will. Thanks, Mary, love you.” He nods his head, kissing her on the cheek. It was one of the moments where he realized that perhaps Mary was Bash’s angel bringing light to his life and how those two were the part of his story that proved love can come anywhere and anytime. 

* * *

The thing about mourning and trying to be the knot that keeps everything together is that there is rarely time to think about anything other than trying to make sure the family and one’s parents are okay. Anne has been in a constant blur of going in and out of her room, and Marilla likes to sleep with her at night and just hold her hand to say that they will both get through the storm together. But it’s also what helps keep the nightmares away, the ones that lay dormant in the back of her mind that she forget about. The nightmares where she always ends up alone in a dark abyss of nothing but black and the only thing or mere sound is her in the room and the sound of her shallow breathing. It happens almost every night when she sleeps; she falls in an extended lull next to Marilla, only to wake up back in her bed. She knows it was Roy that would put her back in her bed. Then the sound of footsteps approach her room, and she wakes to see Marilla crying and brushing Anne’s hair away from her face. 

“You’re safe. You’re okay.” Marilla cries, and Anne grabs her hand holding them to her heart, making Marilla sit at the foot of her bed.

“I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re safe.” She whispers and kisses Marilla’s knuckles and then forehead. Marilla nods and kisses Anne’s forehead.

“Let’s go back to bed.” She leads her mother back to her room, and they fall asleep hugging one another. 

This is how it goes for the next couple of days. It becomes a routine for them, and Roy doesn’t say anything they haven’t spoken at all. Only the times when he gives her dinner or helps with some of the chores around the house. Then there are the times where she feels a blanket draped around her whenever she falls asleep on the couch or the floor reading. In truth, she loves Roy, but those pieces of her in love with him are hollow. The past days have held her to this notion as she cleans around the clock, as she reads, or has those recurring nightmares. Anne finds herself not wanting Roy to help her or be there to soothe her wounds that have unraveled and become a tangled mess of thorns and tattered disoriented reality of the Anne she is. She had become lost. She had floated adrift to what she stood for, and that was being herself; The person who loved without permission took the chances despite the risks and kept pursuing her dreams despite what others believed. The only thought that held her back from those risks is that she wanted people to be happy; she wanted others to feel loved, and with that came the risk of losing some of her happiness. Anne had now understood that. She simply didn’t know what it was that she was willing to risk. She wants to try with Roy, but the other part wants to take a risk. To no longer be safe but to feel the rush of adrenaline fill her throughout her body. 

Then there are moments where she thinks about Gilbert and how she wished he was there to talk to her to be the best friend she needed. To just have him close to her, but he hasn’t been around, and she knows he calls her or texts, but she can’t find the words to say. She needs him in person to be there. So she stays in her room, going downstairs for the occasional breath of fresh air, and as she descends the stairs, she sees Roy in a rigid stance with Tupper wares of food.

“Did I miss something?” She asks, and Roy is quiet, staring at the floor as it had become the most exciting thing to him. 

“Uh, Mary cooked us some food.” He goes into the dining room, setting down the Tupperware of food on the table. Anne follows him, his back still facing her. 

“Was she just here? That was kind of her” 

“It wasn’t Mary, and it was Gilbert,” Roy admits, his shoulders slumping as he rests his arms against the table. 

“Gilbert? He came. Did he say anything?” Anne had become taken back, and she began to wrap herself in her cardigan as if it was a blanket. 

“He wanted to see you, well, you and Marilla. But I told him that you were tired and needed rest. The both of you.” 

“Roy, that’s considerate of you, but you don’t need to do that. I haven’t been able to see him or talked with him in days. I would have liked to see another face around this house.” Anne explains her tone soft but disappointed. She has her other friends who see her; Jerry comes by almost every day, making sure the farm or Marilla is safe. Diana visits with him, and Moody and Ruby try to get Anne to go on walks. Rachel comes by in the evenings to talk with Marilla. The Lacroix family always sends food their way, but she hasn’t seen Gilbert not once since the funeral. 

“I know, I just didn’t think you would be in shape to talk-and the other times when he came, I assumed you needed some space.” He turns around, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Other times? You mean he came by multiple times, and you never told me. You just told him to go away.” Anne’s eyebrows furrow, her mouth parted, confused, annoyed. She looks straight at Roy in front of her.

“Yes, Anne. I told him to leave multiple times, I know he’s one of your best friends, but you also have me. So no, I don’t want him around.” Roy straightens and leans against the table.

“No. So just like that, I have to listen to you and just say, oh, that’s fine, I won’t be friends with him anymore.” Anne sarcastically implies. 

“Yes, exactly like that.” His voice stern. 

“Listen here, Roy; you do not just assume what is right for me or not right for me.”

“That’s the thing, Anne. I should be the only one right for you. So yea, I don’t want you to be friends with him.” He shrugs. 

“You know I have tried and tried to make sure you understood that I was here. That I was ready to be with you.” She points at him, her voice cracking and raw. “ I waited those long damn lonely nights for you when you went on every single work trip, and I go to the stupid work dinners where all the assholes like to parade their wives like they’re an accessory, I did what I could to be the perfect wife. The least you can do is give me one thing, and that is for me to decide who I can and cannot have in my life.” Anne lists one at a time, and she can feel the weight slowly being taken away brick by brick. Roy stands taller and runs his hand through his hair. His nostrils are flaring. 

“You don’t get it, Anne. I’m just looking out for us for our future. I’m sorry that I have to work. It’s all about to give and take right. Isn’t that what marriage is? So yea, maybe you have some nights where you had to be alone, maybe you have to go to stupid dinners. But I never asked you to be perfect. I get lonely too! I just think It would be better if he weren’t in the picture because I won’t be a priority anymore when he is.” Roy exclaims, and his hair is a mess, his eyes tired, and his hands moving all around in the air. 

“What you need to understand is that he has been my best friend for years! I grew up with him, and this one time where I would have liked to have him around because he understands what it is like to lose someone near to you. It would have helped me. But you decided to tell him off, and now you are telling me to decide to let him go because you can’t handle being my top priority. We are always going to have people in our life that we care for, and you know who my top priority is? Marilla. So get off your high horse or leave!” Anne is now pointing to the door, her breathing uneven and her eyes red.

“Don’t you act all high and mighty, Anne? You carry so much baggage that you can’t dare to let go off, and it’s you that gets in the way- you.” But Anne interrupts him from finishing the sentence any further. 

“Get the hell out, Roy! When you finally find your sense of dignity and ounce of respect, then we will talk.” He stays. Still, the silence filled with agitation, and as a fuse ignited at any minute, it could blow. The atmosphere is cold, and yet, the silence deafening.

“Okay then.” Roy rushes off into his room, slamming his door. Anne stays put, and her body tense, she takes a deep breath. A single tear falling, she quickly wipes it off with the sleeve of her cardigan and puts the food away.

* * *

Gilbert knew that he wasn’t going to have luck with seeing Anne. He didn’t want to get his hopes up because hoping meant change, and change meant possibilities. He no longer hoped; he took each day by each day. He was doing small things to change his routines. Back in Toronto, he would just work, come home, eat, and sleep. Gilbert was his mechanism in a clock workstream of machines. He knows he was not the same person he was a year ago or even five years ago, but he does know that the man he promised he would be to his father is not the man he sees in the mirrors or pictures. But being in Avonlea had created a small little pocket of reality and a grip of who Gilbert was and believed he could be—being at home with his family, taking walks in the orchard, playing with his niece, even getting teased by Bash. But then there is a little glimpse of memories that become entangled and disrupt the mechanism he believed he became. Though sometimes Gilbert went back to being the man he was expected to be when he was around Winnie, it was then he felt that glimpse disappear. He knew it meant something. Throughout the days they have been back in Avonlea, all Winnie does is remind him of how she is missing work or how he is missing his chance of getting the promotion, or how her parents want to know when they will be back. And when he wants to visit Anne, she would decline or tell him to stay. Now Gilbert wanted to go and try again to see Anne. 

“Gilbert, where are you going?” Winifred asks. Gilbert is putting on a jacket.

“To go see Anne.” He answers and feels Winnie grab his forearm, turning him to look at her.

“Honey, didn’t you go like two days ago? Shouldn’t you give her space?” 

“But that’s the thing I haven’t even been able to see her. She still won’t answer my calls either.” Winnie looks conflicted, as if she is trying to come up with the right words to say.

“Maybe it’s a good thing, maybe Roy was right, and you should just leave it alone for a bit.” 

“ But Winnie, I just need to know she’s okay.” 

“You’re always trying to make sure she’s okay,” She scoffs, pacing back and forth in the room. 

“She lost Matthew. I know what that feels like; I’m sorry, I want to be there for her.” Gilbert exclaims, his voice going up an octave higher. His arms are waving through the air as he speaks. 

“It’s just what about me? It feels like you are always trying to see her, and when I try to get you to go out, you dismiss the ideas. “

“I know, and I’m sorry, Winnie. I- just she’s my best friend, and I’m worried.”

“And I am your wife.”

“Winnie.” He exhales out. 

“No more Gilbert! I’m sick of you always becoming quiet whenever we go out with friends, how you become a different person in Toronto, but in Avonlea, you are an entirely new person; you become so distracted from the future and what we could be. What you could be.” She iterates to him, Gilbert becomes quiet, his hands in fists, and closes his eyes for a second.

“That’s because I am not the person you want me to be. Have you ever considered why I am so different here than in Toronto that I have pulled a facade to please you or your parents? I feel like there are only parts of me you like and the other you want to change. My job, for one thing, I love it, and I am not trying to get a promotion right now. Our friends are your friends because you don’t think the ones I do make have the right connections. I know you just want what’s best for me. But that isn’t me. You’re trying to mold me, Winnifred.” Gilbert breathes out the last of what was on his chest and looks at the girl in front of him. He doesn’t know who she is, and he doesn’t know who he is. They became the epitome of the cardboard cut out couples in the catalogs.

“Do you love me?” She whispers, her eyes on him soft and scared.

“ I love you.” He whispers back, looking down at his old beat-up converse.

“You love me, but you are not in love with me, are you?” She questions and Gilbert looks back up at her.

“I-” He doesn’t know what to say; he knows he loves her but hearing her ask if she was in love with her had caused his mind to go blank. He wants to be in love with her, but a fraction of himself has already gone away and belonged to someone since he was twelve years old. The other fraction thinks it could be in love with her like possibly when they first were together. But Gilbert believed that maybe that love he had felt for Winnie was something entirely different than what it was for Anne. 

“How about I make it easier for you. We either work this out, or well, I think you can understand what’s next. We could be happy; you know that?” 

“But are you happy, Winnie?” He asks her, he’s curious, and he wants to know if she had felt something where they both were not feeling like they were the right fit. Or if she too was putting up a face to make it seem she was happy.

“I- ‘m. I should go work has been nagging me to come back. Figure out what you want. Bye Gilbert.” Winifred left that night on the first flight back to Toronto she could get. They didn’t say anything else to one another. He heard the clicks of her heels, and then the sound suddenly vanished, and it was just him.

The next two days passed by like a blur; Roy left the next night after their argument, and Anne had done the same she always did. She did all that she could to keep her distracted from as much as she could. From Roy, the argument, herself. Matthew, everything has been making its rounds to remind her what was wrong with her and who she lost. The worst part was the nights when she would be alone in the quiet with her mind playing games and rewinds of sequences. The images of little Anne bullied, the night she found out Matthew had left her, the nights she cried herself asleep when Roy was gone, and that one morning, she told Gilbert that they could not be together. The flashes of hurt across his face, the tears they both shed, the night where she finally felt his lips on hers. It was all building up, piling up onto one another, making her feel as if she was a ghost only a whisper away from her physical body. But there was another pull. It was her uneven breathing and her need to release her pain. She needed to get out so she ran and she found herself wandering through the wood paths leading her to him. 

There it was, the part of her that wanted that feeling of light and happiness course through her veins. With each step until she knocks, Anne’s breathing was becoming rapid at each second. Waiting was torture, and she doesn’t know if it was wise for her to come by in the middle of the night. She doesn’t know if he would even answer the door or if Winifred would. But her thoughts lay still as she sees Gilbert. His hair a mess, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and he’s in a hoodie and plaid pj pants.

“Anne.” His voice groggy, but he looks at her like he always did. 

“I’m sorry it’s late. I shouldn’t have come and disturbed you or Winfred or Bash.” Gilbert notices her hair is down, she has bags under her eyes, and her body slouched. She is wearing a cardigan over an oversized shirt and leggings. 

“Hey, no, no, it’s okay, Bash and them went out of town for business regarding the orchard, and Winnie left a while ago.” He rubs the back of his neck; he’s nervous he doesn’t want Anne to go, not when he finally has the chance to see her.

“Oh,” Anne softly said.

“I tried to go see you, Anne.”

“I know. Well, I didn’t know, but I found out from Roy and well, we got into an argument, and I couldn’t take it. He left shortly after. I just needed some time for myself, I think. I know I should have answered your calls, and I’m so sorry, Gilbert. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I didn’t want to see you. It’s been so difficult, and I just feel so lost, and Matthew I- I miss him so much.” Anne’s voice was pained, and she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the taste of salt on her lips. Gilbert immediately pulled her into a hug, and that was all it took for her to let those barbed wires start to unwrap. She held everything in, and she never could cry until now, and she sobbed. 

“You don’t need to apologize, Anne.” He whispered, holding her, and he felt her shaking her breath unevenly.

“It’s not fair.” Anne’s hands clutch his hoodie, trying to keep her from sinking to her knees. She feels him run his hand through her hair, whispering, “it’s okay, I know it hurts, I’m here.” 

They stay like that for as long as Anne needed. Gilbert knew his hoodie was wet, but he didn’t care. Her breaths started to become even; she was hiccuping, trying to calm down. Her eyes are red and her cheeks pink. The moonlight still cascading down, the crickets alive and chirping, and their shadows holding one another reflected among the field. Anne finally looks at Gilbert, their eyes meeting finally. The moonlight doesn’t do justice to how blue and crystal grey her eyes despite her just crying, and she looks like what the universe wishes it could. Anne brings herself to rest her forehead against Gilberts, and she can feel his eyelashes flutter against hers. His thumb grazing against her shirt, and the other playing with the ends of her hair. Their breathing becoming synchronized and like all those medical textbooks that explained to Gilbert about being in love is nothing but a chemical. He concluded it was more than chemicals. It was the feeling of falling and trusting that whatever happened, it will be worth it. That every little atom, molecule people are made of are made for things like this. To love and be able to feel the undeniable force no one can feel unless you know it. Anne cups his cheeks and nudges his nose with her. Both stop for a second.

“Anne, it’s not safe. If we were to.” He whispers, her eyes flutter open, looking up at him.

“I’m tired of wanting safe.”

“Anne, what if-” Gilbert tries to finish his sentence but Anne’s lips ghost over his like small petals.

“I’m taking the risk.” She kisses him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off, I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. Communication is super, super important, and I hope that is something you guys take away from this story. But let's be honest, these nerds always had trouble being able to communicate properly. As you can see, Anne and Gilbert's marriages are similar but completely different from one another. I wanted to show that, unfortunately, Roy and Winnie took the brunt, and I mean, it happens people marry and realize it's not the same. All parties are not happy let's just say that. I'm going, to be honest, most of the arguments or the way they act or how I think I am capable to write these types of scenes is from growing up seeing things like this. So please go hug your mom or dad or call them.  
> Anne is finally starting to understand herself and the things she wants, Gilbert is as well starting to see he is not the person he wants to be. I know it is frustrating to see the two-act like this but they really are trying to please others and don't take themselves into consideration. So this leads to messy situations and decisions. This is just trying to show that there can be inner battles going on between what you think is right as opposed to just allowing yourself to have something good.  
> This is really long so thank you for reading. I started school this week so I am sorry in advance if my updates are a little later. Take care!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello, lovelies! This is definitely a new turn for me when it comes to writing. I came up with this idea as I was listening to queen Taylor Swift's new album. Also it was midnight and emotions were running high so of course I thought of angst. Alright, first things first in the upcoming fic, so you know where this is heading in terms of themes. Simple it comes in the songs of This is me Trying, Tolerate it, happiness and Illicit affairs, so take what you want with that. I really do hope you guys like it or excited as I am. Please tell me what you think or guess what's going to happen. Thank you for joining me on this journey!  
> Twitter: @meadowsprits I promise I am nice haha


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